Who am I? What am I?
by FairytaleBeliever123
Summary: All he'd heard for a long time was a distant talking and a continuous beeping. All he'd seen was darkness…nothingness. Everything was gone.Where was he? -Blaine is in a coma and can't wake up but where is Kurt. Apologies for the summary, got stuck.


**Hey Guys, Its been quite a while, school's been killing me. A-levels are hard! Anyway I am off sick and finally found some time to write so I hope you enjoy the story. It makes me quite sad. Anyway I love you guys... **

**FairytaleBeliever123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own glee, although no price would be too high (just saying Ryan Murphy ;) )**

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><p>All he'd heard for a long time was a distant talking and a continuous beeping. All he'd seen was darkness…nothingness. Everything was gone. Where was he? He couldn't remember who he was, what he was, why he was. Life (if that's what it was) was painful nothingness. He couldn't make out the words he could vaguely hear, the language seemed foreign and the voices muffled.<p>

_But he could feel._

The pain was everywhere, it overwhelmed his entire being, sometimes it was numb but it was still there, flooding his every thought, making it impossible to dwell on anything else. All he wanted to do to scream _(he couldn't)_ to reach out to those voices for comfort _(he couldn't)._ Sometimes he felt a tingling, he was not sure where, where was there to feel anyway?

…

Sometimes he imagined a place, it was busy, large structures framed the scenery. Creatures walked past without giving him a second glance. They were sometimes tall, sometimes small. Sometimes muscular and threatening, sometimes soft, curvy and welcoming. Some were a mixture, a cross between the two. He felt drawn towards these creatures the most. They had barely any fur on their heads like the threatening kind but wide smiles and soft-looking skins like the others. When he looked down at himself, he always felt surprised to see he too was one of these creatures.

He began following one in particular, lost but so happy. The creature was tall and thin. Its fur was a light colour; he always struggled to remember the name. Its skin was pale and so soft looking, its clothing was extravagant and it swayed attractively as it walked. He always felt drawn to this creature and a sense of possessiveness always engulfed him when the other creatures looked at it.

He followed the creature until he heard a loud beeping and screeching and saw a large red monster with bright lights quickly approaching him. Then the pain was there and he felt himself fade away. For a brief second, before the scene was gone, he saw a curly furred creature lying down surrounded by a red liquid. Then it was gone and he was engulfed in grief. It always felt so real and it was so different from the rest of his existence, it was almost like another life.

…

As he came back from another of these visions, he felt everything change within him. The pain was number than usual; he had a better sense of himself. He could feel the different parts of himself although they still felt weighed down and movement was still not an option. However the thing that struck him the most was the change in the voices. They were no longer muffled; the words understandable and he could now understand their conversations.

"Mr Anderson, it has been 3 years. I have to tell you there is very little chance of your son ever coming out his coma. Maybe you should consider turning off the life support machines…" The soft-spoken comforting voice was interrupted by a gruff, angry one but he could detect pain in its words after all pain was something he understood…

"HE'S MY SON! Why don't you people get that? I pay you, don't I? What I do is none of your concern. He is all I have left…" The voice trailed off here and became quieter, more distraught… "His mother couldn't take this anymore. All she felt was grief, she blamed herself you know. God knows why! It was that damned drunk driver's fault! But she took her own life because of it and you think I'm going to give up on my son if he has any chance of life!"

The voice was then overcome by tears and the other began to comfort it. He wished he too could comfort the voice.

As he became more and more aware of his surroundings, he began to anticipate when the voice would arrive and dreaded when it would disappear. All the other sounds around him were harsh and cold but this voice was full of feeling and compassion. Sometimes it was angry and would shout like that first day but most of the time the voice talked to him and he enjoyed learning from its words.

He learnt he was a man.

He thought his name was either son, my boy or Blaine as that is what the voice referred to him as.

He learnt he was in a 'hospital' (whatever that was).

Gradually he learnt more and more about the world he couldn't see and he had some comfort in his nothingness other than the fleeting vision. He grew to love the voice, he always felt something for it, it comforted him and he almost felt like he knew it, that it was something from 'before' (if there had been a 'before')

"God, son…" the voice began one day, "you are so beautiful, so young. This isn't right you shouldn't be here; you had so much life ahead of you.

Just graduated from college with a degree in Performing Arts, I don't know if I ever told you how proud I was.

I know I pushed you away that I made you feel unwanted, wrong, and I'm really sorry. I should have been more accepting but it was so hard. The day you were born and I held you in my arms; I thought you were the most perfect thing I'd ever seen, so small and mine. You were part of me and I loved you, I didn't even know you and I loved you and I always will. Of course I imagined you growing up and getting married, having your own kids but that isn't what matters to me, you are what matters and I couldn't even keep you safe.

Blaine, do you hear me? Please move your hand if you do, son?" He tried but he still found it impossible and the voice broke down,

"I can only think of one more thing to do to try and bring you back to me. If it doesn't work I don't know what I'll do…" The voice whispered this last sentence before disappearing.

…

The voice didn't return and he was exiled to the corners of his own mind again. No other voices came to talk to him and he was again completely alone. Frustration was the only emotion he felt, why did the voice leave? What had he done?

Over time the visions became more frequent and although he was beginning to recognise more and more objects, the visions or dreams as he now called them, still only brought pain and unhappiness. The noises around him became more and more muffled as he lost all interest in them and he could feel himself slipping further and further away from the life around him but he couldn't bring himself to care, maybe it was better that way. He was depressed and he stopped trying to talk, to reach out, what was the point? There was nothing to reach for anyway.

He was letting himself waste away, letting himself die…

…

"Blaine…" A high-pitched voice startled him out of his world. It wasn't the same voice as before, it was younger, softer. It was crying…

"I didn't even know you were here. I didn't know and it's been three years! I know we broke up but you were my best friend and we promised to always be there for each other and I didn't even know you were in a coma!" There was large bang and the voice was gone, there was only silence. He thought it too had left him until a while later it talked again…

"I still love you, you know. I haven't dated anyone since we broke up. Why was that? Was I being stupid? Were you scared? Was I? I definitely was, we'd been together since high school... it was so serious, I thought I needed space. I was wrong, within days I wanted you back but you wouldn't answer your phone, you weren't at your apartment and your parents weren't around either. I guess I know why now… I kept hoping you'd call; beg me to come back to you. I'm so sorry, Blaine! I LOVE YOU and I'm so sorry…" The voice stopped talking but he knew it was still there. He could hear it sobbing.

He was trying so hard to break through the barriers, to lift his arm, to open his mouth. He was fighting some invisible force but he wasn't strong enough and instead he felt his bonds closing in on him but he kept fighting. He felt love for this voice and knew he had to get to it, had to comfort it, had to embrace it.

Then he felt something other than the pain. Something more. Something that sent fire through his veins, electrocuting very cell in his body back to life, awakening his soul. He left a tear on his skin and flexed his toes, the feeling spread through his body and he could feel all his muscles straining, could feel the cloth of his clothing against his skin and slowly opened his eyes.

…

For a minute, all he could see was light but his eyes adjusted and his ears pinpointed the source of the sobbing. On a chair beside his bed was the owner of the voice, the creature from his dream, holding his hand and suddenly he knew where the feeling had come from. This boy with eyes shut tight and tears streaming down his face had given _Blaine_ the power to come back to life.

And then he remembered everything. Who he was, what he was, where he was, why he was? He remembered the boy and his love for him. He remembered the fight, how he'd stormed out. He remembered the anger, the pain and the hurt. He remembered not looking as he crossed the road because his mind was so worked up in what just happened. He remembered the crash, the pain and then how the nothingness had spread.

Joy spread through him as he remembered the boy's words "I still love you, you know" and with his new found movement he squeezed the boy's hand and when his beautiful blue eyes opened in astonishment, he replied hoarsely,

"I love you too, Kurt."

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading, please review xxx<strong>


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